Be Careful What You Wish For
by phantomsangelofmusic
Summary: Two phantom phans both make a wish on a shooting star. One soon finds herself in a strange new situation with no way to communicate and soon comes to rely on the one man who can understand her quite literally. Romance, humor, general
1. Make a Wish

Chapter One: Make a Wish…

Summary: Two teenage phantom phans both make a wish on a shooting star. The same basic wish, though different in details. One soon finds herself in a strange new situation where she has no way to communicate and soon finds herself as incapable of fitting in as she was before; only this time with a language barrier. She comes to rely on the one man who can understand her (quite literally!) and who seems so similar yet so different from all she has heard of him. (Okay, so it's a sucky review, just read it to see of you like it! )

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of PotO, though Sarah and Tiffani are obviously my characters. Blah, blah, blah, you people know the drill.

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The antique grandfather clock in the hall was just striking 1 A.M when Sarah and Tiffani quietly entered the latter's home. It was summer vacation, so they know Mr. and Mrs. Hernandez wouldn't care too much that they were past curfew by 2 and a half hours, but didn't want to wake them.

Wordlessly they descended into the basement. Although it was unfinished in every sense of the word, Tiffani's grandparents had installed a TV, playstation, and torch lamp, along with an old, lumpy couch that was older than either of the girls. For the past 2 summers Sarah had practically lived at Tiffani's house and the friends literally lived in the basement, thanks to sleeping bags and a portable stereo.

Tiffani pulled a DVD case out from under an overturned bowl of week old popcorn and put the disc in the playstation. Both girls plopped down on the couch, immediately sinking into the pathetic cushions, and squealed in delight when the movie started. In the three days so far that summer that Sarah had stayed at Tiffani's house, they had watched _The Phantom of the Opera_ eight times. Both girls shivered in delight the moment the song Music of the Night began.

"I'd give anything to be Christine!" Sarah sighed, staring intensely at the screen.

Tiffani nodded distractedly, not taking her eyes off the screen.

"Shut up, I can't hear!"

By the end of the movie both of them were crying and cursing Raoul for stealing the phantom's only love.

"Poor… Erik." Tiffani sniffled, hugger her knees to her chest.

"I wouldn't have left him." Sarah said, starting wistfully up at the ceiling.

Tiffani raised an eyebrow at her 17-year-old friend.

"No offense, Sarah, but you've dumped every boyfriend you've ever-"

"Erik'd be special!" She pouted prettily.

They settled their dispute by doing what they always did: distract themselves. Sarah turned on her ipod, setting the headphones next to her with the volume on max, and they forgot their problems to thanks to Michael Crawford.

"If I met Erik, I'd want him to be like Michael Crawford's version." Sarah commented, smiling dreamily.

Tiffani gave her a doubtful look. "Gerry's is infinitely sexier."

"Who needs sex when a man can sing like that?" Sarah replied, gesturing towards the ipod.

"Well, I do."

Both of them laughed, changing into pajamas and climbing into their sleeping bags. Sarah lay in silence, staring out the window, half-listening to Tiffani talk about Gerard Butler.

"Look Tiffani! A shooting star!"

The two friends grinned at each other, knowing that they were making the same basic wish, regardless of whether it involved a man who sang like Michael Crawford or looked as good as Gerard Butler. As soon as she'd mouthed the last words of her wish, Sarah felt as though she'd consumed an entire bottle of sleeping pulls. Within a minute she'd fallen deeply asleep, a light shimmer beginning to form around her.

TBC…

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I already have the next two chapters done, but before I can upload them, I need a bit of help with language. If anybody can speak French, could you please write the following phrases in your review. (Grumbles about her French-speaking friend having ditched school for the last month)

1) Do you need anything, miss?

2) Are you lost?

Mask-shaped cookies for all my reviewers! skips around singing random phrases from PotO as it rains cookies


	2. But Be Careful What You Wish For

Chapter Two: …But Be Careful What You Wish For

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of PotO, though two of the people are obviously my characters. Etc., etc., etc. (I guess I'm thinking of The King and I! )

* * *

"Good morning, Chifanni." Sarah mumbled, using the nickname that annoyed her 18-year-old friend so much.

She groggily opened her eyes and screamed, scooting backwards until she very ungracefully fell off the bed she was in, landing painfully on her rear.

"You're… I'm in… HOLY CRAP!"

The man standing next to the bed simply glared at her. "If anyone is to be surprised, it should be me. What were you doing down here?" His voice was melodious, even though he was irritated, and contained a slight French accent.

"Down? Wait… what?" Sarah's eyes were the size of saucers and she scooted backwards until she bumped into a chair, knocking it over and apologizing profoundly.

He vaguely mentioned finding her unconscious on the opposite side of the subterranean lake, and she stared at him blankly.

"I-I don't know." She blushed furiously.

He gave her a look of skeptical confusion, but she didn't notice.

'That half-mask, black evening clothes, smooth, fair skin on the uncovered side of his face. He definitely doesn't look like Gerard Butler, but from what I've seen of Michael Crawford, is fairly different from him too.' She thought, finally taking the time to examine the man's appearance.

"Good god, mademoiselle, what are you staring at? This?" He gestured angrily at the mask.

"Oh my god, you're perfect!" The whisper flew from her mouth before she even realized she'd said them.

He seemed taken aback for just a moment before replying cynically.

"Perfect for what? A circus' freak show? Oh, most certainly, mademoiselle!" He laughed bitterly, turning away.

"I can sing." Sarah shocked herself as more words flew from her mouth.

"I don't care."

"Well you should." Once again, she felt like slapping herself.

He turned around with an astonished expression. "Should I?" He gave a curt nod. "You're crazy, but I'll humor you. Sing."

Sarah cursed herself silently, having just made the situation worse. She tried to remember any pieces from the time period, but couldn't. Finally, something came to mind.

"Has the gala occurred here yet?"

Once again, he nodded, and she took a shaky breath. She was going to sing for the phantom of the opera, of all people!

"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while; please promise me you'll try. When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free if you ever find a moment, stop and think of me. We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea, but if you can still remember, spare a thought for me."

She knew that she wasn't doing her best, but was afraid to project for fear of making a blatant mistake. Her sole audience member watched her impassively, which did nothing for her nerves, but she forced herself to continue.

"Think of all the things we've shared and seen, don't think about the way things might have been. Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned. Imagine me, trying to hard to put you from my mind. Recall those days, think back on all those times, think of the things we'll never do…" She suddenly stopped dead, her mind drawing a blank on the remaining words. She already knew that she had messed up the lyrics, but now couldn't remember the next at all.

Erik's slightly closed eyes snapped open. "Go on. I wish you to continue to the end, mademoiselle."

Sarah flushed once again. "Sorry, but I can't remember the lyrics."

"Hmmm… well your high notes are poor, and you are nearly inaudible."

"I know I'm not as skilled as Christine." Sarah mumbled dejectedly.

When he stared at her blankly, she barely restrained a gasp. No Christine? Suddenly it dawned on her: this was a different Erik, a different plotline, if it was to be called that. This man was very real, and different from the other portrayals she'd seen of him. It made her wonder who else was missing. Madame Giry? Raoul?

"However, you have potential, with a lot of hard work. Good luck."

"Teach me." She flew to her knees before him, hands clasped in appeal.

"No."

"Please!"

He remained silent for a long time, avoiding her puppy-dog face.

"Very well, mademoiselle; if you will agree to my conditions."

"Thank you! Oh, thank you so much!" She jumped up, hugging him tightly until he managed to pry her off. 'My name is Sarah, by the way."

"Well…. Sarah… first I'll assume that you have more decent… clothing. Wear something with class next time, please. Second-"

Sarah had been grinning at his comment, and suddenly cut in. "I don't."

"You don't… what?" He was clearly annoyed.

"Have anything else to wear." Her grinned turned mischievous. "Perhaps I could wear your spare clothes!"

He didn't find her comment as amusing, but in the end Sarah found that she'd exchanged her low-cut cream tank top and long, baggy, orange pajama pants in favor of what he provided. She laughed as she emerged from changing behind a curtain.

"Do I look good?" She joked.

"You look like a hermaphrodite."

"Gee, thanks." She laughed, looking down at the ruffled white shirt and black pants she now wore. Bending down, she began to roll up the pant legs. "I do, don't I? Anyways, it's good you're thin, but these are still falling off me." She stopped momentarily to pull the trousers up, and then resumed rolling them up until they no longer dragged the ground. At 5'6" she seemed to be swimming in the fabric of the man's clothes, considering the fact that he seemed to be at least 6 inches taller.

"Second, you are only to return in the evenings for your lessons."

"But… I have nowhere to go."

"That is of no importance to me."

"You're mean!"

"Well, you're immature." Finally he sighed, picking up a small bag and putting some francs into it. "Here. Buy yourself some gender-appropriate clothing and a room at an inn."

He showed Sarah a passageway out, then lit a torch for her.

"There are no turns or branches, so if you get lost there isn't much to be said for your sanity." With that, he closed the entry.

As soon as Sarah emerged through a door hidden carefully in a wall between two of the stage curtains, she smiled broadly. There before her was something familiar: Madame Giry with the corps de ballet. The woman seemed frustrated from her posture and jerky movements, but Sarah quickly put that out of mind in favor of watching the young women rehearse. Suddenly one of the smaller dancers glanced over and saw Sarah. She pointed her out to Madame Giry, who came over before Sarah could think of a reason for why she was there. Saying "I came from the Phantom's lair" certainly wouldn't work.

"Avez-vous besoin de n'importe quoi, le coup manqué ?" (Do you need anything, miss?)

'Oh, crap!' Sarah thought nervously, desperately trying to remember the bits and pieces of French she knew from a classmate. Finally she gave up and made a helpless gesture.

"Etes-vous perdu?"

Sarah recognized the word 'lost' and nodded fervently. She could only hope that the woman was asking her if she was lost and not asking her to get lost. However, she was disappointed when Madame Giry responded with a long string of French and a few vague hand gestures before nodding politely and walking away.

Sarah managed to find her way out of the opera house, a task which wasn't as complicated as she'd expected it to be, and went to a dress shop which was fortunately located just across the street. She entered the store and took in the relaxing scents of cloth and wood, then approached the plump, pleasant-looking old lady who sat on a tiny stool behind the counter. It was time to try out her plan.

"Sorry for your trouble, but to you speak English?"

The lady simply stared at her in bewilderment, and several browsing customers stopped to stare at her for a moment before going back to their former activities. Sarah sighed, trying the only other language she knew to any extent at all.

"Tú hablas Español?"

The poor woman only stared at her even more helplessly, but a dark haired customer came over, offering to translate. Sarah thanked her multiple times, then spoke hesitantly. She was by no means fluent, but could only hope that she knew enough to accomplish her task.

"Yo necesito compras ropas." (I need to buy clothes) She didn't care if her grammar was wrong, as long as she got her point across.

Thanks to the kindly woman, Sarah successfully purchased two fairly simple dresses. She still has to deal with a chemise, corset, and pantaloons, but at least she'd talked the seamstress out of having her purchase bustles. The dress she wore was light olive green with gold embroidered flowers on the left side, and her other was crimson with black lace, a fancier garment than its green companion. She felt like she was going to die, but at least she had the consolation that she felt lovely.

She wandered around for hours, going to every inn that she could find nearby, and getting thrown out of all of them. Not being able to speak French in France had obvious disadvantages. Several times, she considered ducking into allies to take off her blasted corset, but finally decided to endure the discomfort. She finally limped back to the opera house at sunset, dusty, tired, gasping for air, and holding her new, blister-causing shoes.

TBC...

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Anyways, thank you so much to my 3 reviewers! (Sorry if I missed someone, but there _were_ three when I put this on the website!) Right now the story is sort of slow, but it'll pick up soon enough. This is my first fic, or phan phic, rather, as well as the only comedy I've ever tried to write. So bear with me as I try to tap into the side of me that is good at writing comedy. Any suggestions, even flames, are very much appreciated. Also, is there anything I can do to make Erik's character more… Erickish? Or is it okay? –Skips around throwing more cookies and singing Stairway to Heaven- Yeah, I know it isn't from PotO, but it's what I'm listening to on my ipod right now so… -sticks tongue out- Lol, sorry for that! 


	3. Dancing and Discovery

Chapter Three: Dancing and Discovery

**Silent Masquerade**- I'm glad you're enjoying the story! Although I've changed the genre, there will still be humor in it, so don't worry! ;

**Misty Breyer**- Hmmm… I hadn't thought to do much with the nonexistent Christine thing directly. I mean… if she doesn't exist, it's hard to include her. (Ignore that, I'm in a weird mood) Haha, I'm glad you liked the hermaphrodite comment; it was actually added about two seconds before I uploaded the chapter! By the way, what is a snark? –feels stupid-

**GabreilsGirl-** Wow, thanks for the comment about Stairway to Heaven! Unfortunately I don't have access to a record of it, but thank you for the idea anyways! –Goes to ebay to look for a record of it- And don't worry, I still have quite a bit to write, if everything goes as planned. ;)

**phantomsangel102**- Yay! I'm glad you like it! I also went and read one of your stories. It is good! I read "Love at First Dance"

**Galasriniel**- Thank you for the review! Lol, penguin…

**Chrissy**- Thanks for the French. Fortunately I had also thought to go to an online translator, but thank you very much anyways!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it besides Sarah and Tiffani (that girl from the first chapter), but I wish I did! (Haha, how ironic for me to be wishing!)

AN(author's note): I have the next chapter done, but its taking me forever to type this since I barely ever have computer time, so please be patient. Also, I am very open to suggestions, ideas, flames, or whatever, in fact, I welcome them with open arms! –Hugs all my readers-

* * *

Sarah arrived at the thankfully empty stage and ran her hands along the wall for at least 20 minutes before finally getting her fingers into the nearly invisible seam. She then proceeded into the dismal passage once again, with the aid of a new torch she found burning in a wall scone. Apparently she had been anticipated.

When she ducked out from under the tapestry at the end, leaving the torch in another scone, she was surprised to find the elaborate room empty. She finally found her new teacher sitting in the room with the golden bed that she had awakened in. His back was towards her, so she wasn't sure what to do, finally coughing quietly to see if he'd notice.

The man turned around quickly and rose, holding something light green that was about the size of a deck of cards. He looked irritated, and glared down at the small object as he drew near.

"What is this?" He said, holding it out to her.

Sarah gasped. "Oh my god, my ipod!" She grabbed it from his hand in excitement.

"Your what?" He looked at her as though she was mad.

"It's a thingamajigger that you use to listen to music."

"How?"

Sarah flicked the switch to unlock it and turned it on, seeing that she had the song "Hot in Herre" by Nelly on pause. She smiled maniacally at having her favorite possession with her as she turned up the volume and sat the headphones on the ground between them. Changing her mind, she tried to put them in his ears, but he shied away from her hands, glaring at her.

"Don't try if you want to live."

Sarah stared at him in confusion for a moment, then smiled in amusement. Her smile gave way to laughter which grew more and more hysterical. She didn't know why she wasn't terrified by his reaction, but she only stopped laughing when he shouted at her to shut up. Sarah looked at him innocently, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

"These go in your ears to hear the music." She finally said.

He looked at her warily, but finally allowed her to place one in his left ear. Sarah clicked the play button, putting the other headphone in her ear. She suppressed a giggle at the look which appeared on Erik's face when he finally started paying attention to the lyrics. He quickly took the earpiece out and stared at her in shock.

"That was the most… vulgar thing I've ever heard! You call that rhythmless, scandalous jumble of noise _music?_"

Sarah nodded, grinning mischievously. "But I have other types, too." She skipped ahead a few songs to "Wrong Number" by the Cure and moved slightly to the beat while he simply stares at her. "What? It's a good song to dance to!"

"Teach me."

His request caught her off guard, and she felt her mouth drop open in shock as she stared at him, wide-eyed.

"T-teach you? What?"

"To do this… dance."

She flashed a Cheshire cat smile before nodding. "Okay put it on a better song."

Putting it on "Lose My Breath" by Destiny's Child she playfully told him to follow her lead and try to keep up. One thing Sarah prided herself on was her provocative club-style dancing. As soon as the vocal section began she started moving to the beat, a sensual look on her face. Erik stared at her as if she was committing one of the deadly sins for about a minute and a half, then gradually began to move slightly, a look of discomfiture on his face.

"C'mon, feel the beat! It's all in the hips." Sarah urged.

She went to turn so her back would face him, but her pointy shoes caught on her hem and sent her sprawling on the ground. She at there for a long time, laughing self-consciously, before finally taking the hand Erik offered and brushing herself off as she stood.

"Wow, that was graceful!" She laughed, then touched her skirt thoughtfully. "Hey Erik, do you have scissors?"

"How do you know my name?" He was instantly on guard and Sarah was sad to see his relaxed half-smile vanish.

"I…" She sighed. "You won't believe me."

"Well?" He gave her a scathing look.

"I… I'm from the future."

He snorted in disbelief, as she'd expected.

"No, seriously! Why else would I have this?" She held out the ipod huffily.

He looked at her half is skepticism; half thoughtfully for a long time, and Sarah had begun to believe he would never reply, when he finally nodded. "That doesn't account for why you know my name." He said in a tone that was so calm, it was disturbing. It warned Sarah that she'd better tell the truth.

"Well…there's a book… and a musical… and-"

"-About me?" His eyes widened as he cut her off.

"Mm-hm." She smiled as an idea hit her. "Listen."

Handing his the headphones to avoid another situation like before, she went to her play list of songs from the original London cast and pressed play, skipping ahead to "The Phantom of the Opera". Erik listened contemplatively, then commented that Sarah didn't sound like the woman in the song. Sarah blushed and commented that the person wasn't her.

"In the things I mentioned you fell in love with a girl named Christine Daae."

"Who?"

"Well, you see…" She rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably. "Up until now it was believed that you were a… fictional character."

He laughed bitterly. "I see. Well, I had no idea that the "legend" of the phantom of the opera house got beyond the superstitious ballerinas and stagehands."

"W-what have you… truly done?"

When he looked at her quizzically, she hastily explained about the notes and murders.

"The notes, yes. However I've killed only one man… as of yet. I believe it safe to assume that you can assume who if I tell you that every employee of my opera house is perfectly fine."

The song that was playing reached the point where the phantom was urging Christine to sing and Sarah shut her eyes, listening to the way Michael Crawford spoke. His voice was so seductive, so alluring… when the section finally ended she slowly opened her eyes and found Erik staring at her. She immediately covered her face to hide her blush.

"I'm under the impression that you like that part?" He seemed as embarrassed as her, probably because the man whose voice had inspired her heart to pound was more or less; him.

But it was one of those phrases that was half-statement, half-question; and never gets a direct reply.

"Ummm… anyways… do you have scissors, a needle, and some string?" She asked quietly, still not looking at him.

"Do I look like a seamstress?"

She shook her head, and then suddenly her face lit up. "But there are seamstresses at the opera house, aren't there?"

"What are you plotting now, woman?" He sighed but amusement sparkled in his eyes.

* * *

**Misty Breyer**- let me know if my story gets too similar to yours, because I am doing everything in my power and imagination to keep it different, but since ours are on similar concepts with similar genres, its harder than you'd think! -blush-


	4. Corsets and ipods

Chapter Four: Corsets and ipods

**Galasriniel**- Okay, okay, I'll update! -hides from the llama and lemur army- As far as the whole thing about shortening her skirts, well… lets just say that the idea got put on hold. Whoa, you have turquoise nail polish? Me too:D Yay! -puts on nail polish- Anywho, I'm updating, so where's my cookie? ;)

**Misty Breyer**blush- Yeah, I also can't easily imagine Erik dancing like I love to… -cough- I mean, like Sarah loves to… ;) But that's the fun of it; imagine the cultural shock he would get, lol! As far as the snark thing goes, that's an awesome word! -runs to Tiffani and calls her a snark- Han Solo is awesome, so I'll take it as an awesome compliment to call Erik a snark. -runs and calls him one as well, then runs away from the Punjab lasso for dear life-

**Ludivine-** Yay! I'm glad you also like it:) -gives you a basket of mask-shaped cookies- Also, is it a live rpg or on a message board? I'm not able to join a live one, but I'll join if it is the latter choice. -hops around singing that I'm gonna join an rpg-

**Silent Masquerade**big grin- Yay, more good reviews! Hehehe, I sort of based the situation with Erik on when I tried to teach my friend Jenny to dance, so I can tell based on her reaction that it wouldn't be the most comfortable thing to do for a lot of peeps. I'm not much of a dancer in anything but rave dancing, so if I decide to put the masquerade in my story (like my friend Tiffani is urging me to do) then Sarah will probably feel the same discomfort that Erik felt with her favorite dancing style.

Disclaimer: I still don't own any of it besides Sarah and Tiffani -sigh-

AN(author's note): I am going to take this opportunity to thank all of my readers for reading the story so far, even the ones who didn't review (if there are any) and pose a question for you. Should I bring Tiffani back into the story? If I should, I have the next 3 chapters done and everything at least planned up until chapter 10, but if I shouldn't, then you'll just have to wait, because I'll probably have a major brain fart. Oh, and by done, that unfortunately doesn't mean typed.

Also, I hope that you enjoy this (incredibly short) chapter because the cost is a whole letter grade. ;) I am currently semi-ditching school (my dad picked me up but I had no reason for leaving) and I didn't go to the class that I had a chance to save my grade in. Now I'm on spring break so I'll fail that class for this quarter, but do I honestly care? No. laugh

Okay, now it's Saturday and I'm still working on this, so I'll take this opportunity to very sincerely apologize for not updating in a long time. Life is like a movie theater for me, there is always something new and pointless coming along and putting aside the older, more popular stuff. (Don't ask…) I honestly have seen about 6 movies in like, 3 days, so that metaphor is very fitting. laugh

Anyways, let's move beyond my pointless rambling to the good stuff:

Sarah returned to the cellars a short time later, beaming triumphantly as she clutched scissors, a needle, a spool of string, and 8 white buttons. Ignoring Erik's unspoken questions, she promptly shut herself into the Louis-Philippe room and pulled off her dress, laying it on the bed and unfolding the red one next to it. She struggled with the corset for a while, then finally poked her head out the door.

"Hey Erik, can you help me?"

He was still listening to the ipod, a strange look on his face, so she repeated her question louder.

"Huh?" He pressed the pause button and looked at her expectantly.

She walked out of the room and he stared at her in shock and disgust, as though she was nude, rather than in a rather modest chemise.

"Have you no decency?" He said angrily.

She glanced down, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

"What? This covers more skin than what I was wearing when you first met me. Anywho, I need you to help me with this." She gestured towards the corset. "Please?"

Apparently he misunderstood her, because instead of helping her get it off, he pulled the strings tighter. She felt her waist constrict to a very unnatural size and gasped like a fish out of water, feeling as though her eyeballs were about to pop out of her skull.

"That… thing seems very… useful for ladies." He commented sheepishly, looking down with a flush across his cheeks.

If Sarah hadn't been desperately trying to breath, she would have blushed. As it was, she made a gasping noise that he didn't hear.

Starting the music again, he gasped in a similar way to how she had; eyes almost as wide as when she had first emerged from the room in just a chemise and corset.

"Why am I saying this?"

She glanced at the ipod where the words "I Remember/ Stranger than You Dreamt It" were on the marquee going across the screen.

"She… pulled… off your… mask." Sarah said in a laborious, faint whisper.

His hand reflexively flow up to the white leather than concealed his deformity. "Do you-"

She nodded and tried to say that she'd seen his whole face before, or at least how the movie had shown it, but nothing came out; her lips moved uselessly.

"What?" He still had his hand on the mask, as though to reassure himself that it was indeed still there.

Sarah opened her mouth, but suddenly swayed. Her hands flew to her chest as she tried to breathe, but no air entered her lungs. The last sensation she had was one of the world spinning as she fell towards a very surprised Erik.

So, what do you think? Sorry that its so short and unoriginal (I swear I haven't watched PotC (Pirates of the Caribbean) in… a long time) but the next chapter is 8 pages long, so once I get that typed you can have more for your reading pleasure… or torture, in case anyone out there was been tied to a giant candelabra by Galasriniel's llama and lemur armies and force fed cottage cheese while they are forced to read my story and die a slow painful death. Bwahahahahaha! -cough- Ignore me…


	5. Humiliation and Intruder

Chapter Five: Humiliation and Intruder

Okay, readers, here's another chapter for ya'll! (I'm from Texas, so I get to use that word:P) I'm updating without waiting for reviews this time, but I can't live without 'em, so please keep me alive! ;)

Also, does anybody know how to get the star symbols to appear? Whenever I have an action I always have to put dashes. –grumbles- I know that my request had absolutely nothing to do with the story, but does anything I say really have to do with the actual story? I didn't think so.

On another note (not that it matters much, but still…) I read the first 40 pages of the PotO novel, so as I read more you might find subtle details in the story that lean more towards it than the movie… just warnin' ya. (I was at a bookstore, or else I'd already have read the whole thing. –curses random objects for me being broke and unable to buy a 5 dollar book-)

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When Sarah came to, she once again found herself in the swan bed. Looking around, she noticed her dresses folded over a chair and her corset lying nearby. She took several deep, much-appreciated breaths, and then got up, going over to the outfits. She started to put the blue one back on, and then noticed that it only fit if her waist was painfully constricted by the corset. Giving up, she decided to go ask Erik for her pajamas, having left them with him when she wore his clothes.

"Are you alright?" Erik asked seemingly from nowhere.

Sarah jumped, then noticed him sitting in a chair in the shadows. Candlelight flickered across his face and made his eyes gleam like two emeralds, one set in snowy leather and the other in fair skin.

"Can I have my pjs back?"

"Your what?"

"Pajamas. Nightclothes. The things I was wearing when I came here."

He finally realized what she was talking about and nodded.

"If you improve in your lesson today."

She followed him to a room which she immediately thought of as the music room, for obvious reasons. He sat at the piano and looked at her.

"Your tone is good." He stressed the word "good" in a way that made Sarah feel inadequate. "However, you're too quiet, you don't annunciate, and you had better learn to memorize lyrics."

"Hey, I can memorize lyrics just fine!"

"Apparently not." He hit a middle E on the piano. "Sing a major scale."

She obeyed and when she had finished he hit a C, five notes above. "From there, now."

Once again she sang, but he stopped her before she'd even reached the syllable la.

"Sing it again with more air to support you. And open your mouth, for god's sake."

It went on that way for an hour and a half, with Sarah nearly acing on her urge to strangle him after he ever-so-kindly remarked that she sang like a goat on low notes. She spent the first 30 minutes singing seemingly pointless notes and scales over and over while enduring constant criticism. The one time she sarcastically remarked that he must absolutely love music to have so much to expound upon, she had to endure him angrily pounding the keys for the next 5 scales she sang. Afterwards she spent an hour on 'Think of Me', and he was even more relentless and brutally honest there than she had believed him or anyone capable of being. Fortunately he slacked off a bit for the last 15 minutes or so and she cooled down somewhat.

"You're still nearly inaudible, and you still don't support your high notes. However, you did fair. At least you know the correct notes and lyrics on "Think of Me.""

Sarah smiled demurely in humiliation, remembering the first time he heard her sing the end of the song. He'd immediately covered his ears and nearly fell off the piano bench, saying that just because he was called a phantom it didn't mean that she had to screech like a banshee.

Much to her relief he went and got her pajamas for her, and she squealed in delight, hugging the uncomfortable man once again before bouncing off to the Louis-Philippe room to change.

When she emerged, beaming, he glanced at her, standing up with an elaborate swirl of his cloak. She couldn't help but giggle at the sight of the ipod in his hand, but was beginning to miss the tiny music player.

"Who is singing here?" He practically yelled.

Sarah had long since gotten used to the unnaturally loud voice he used to hear himself over the music, so she wasn't fazed.

"Which one is it?"

He glanced down. "Candy Shop."

"What?" Her eyes immediately became the size of saucers. "Ummm…. 50 Cent."

"It's…interesting." He was looking at the ipod thoughtfully.

"I'm glad to hear that. There might still be some hope of corrupting you into liking my music." Sarah winked and he acted like he hadn't heard her. "But I need my ipod back before the battery dies."

"No."

"What?"

"No." He had a look on his face that was halfway between a stubborn smirk and a mischievous grin.

"Fine, be that way."

Sarah turned her back and started to walk away with forced nonchalance. Glancing out of the corner of her eyes she noticed him suddenly drop the music player. With a cry of 'bonsai' she dove onto it, hitting heads with Erik, who made an irritated noise at the back of his throat that sounded vaguely like a growl. Beaming triumphantly she started to stand up.

"Ow!" A moment later she was kneeling, trying to get her almost waist-length hair untangled from the bottom button of his vest. "Owwww! Erik, help me!"

He had been staring at her with an expression that suggested he was questioning her sanity, then realized what was wrong and roared with laughter, trying to untangle the strand. It turned out to be more difficult than it seemed. Sarah kept pulling away, which only made the knot tighter.

"Hold still!" He growled, the amusement of the ordeal gone.

"You're hurting me!" She winced in pain.

"It'll hurt less of you quit pulling away!" He pushed her head against his hip to hold her still while using his free hand to keep trying to undo the snarl of hair.

Suddenly they both heard a small noise and glanced around to see Madame Giry staring wide-eyed at them, holding a tray of food while she stood next to the passage leading from the stage.

"Est je… interrompre quelque chose?" (Am I… interrupting some thing?)

Crimson isn't a suitable color to describe the blush that appeared instantaneously on the faces of Sarah and Erik.

"Non!" (No!) Erik said quickly. Turning, he pointed to the ensnared hair on the button, ignoring Sarah's whimper of pain.

Mme. Giry suddenly registered a look of recognition as she saw Sarah. Setting down the tray she came over and effortlessly freed the girl's head.

"Qu;est que vous faites en bas ici, mademoiselle?" (What are you doing down here, miss?)

Erik responded rather harshly and Sarah glanced back and forth between the two in confusion as they spoke, or rather argued, for a long time. Finally Mme. Giry turned and left with some measure of regained composure. Erik scowled after her as she left, then went to get the platter. Lifting the cloth from it, he set it in the middle of a paper-covered table, glancing at Sarah.

"Eat." He sat and waited until she had done the same.

They ate in silence, neither having much since it was a meager meal for one person, let alone two. Although she did not speak, Sarah's mind was whirling with infinite questions. What were they arguing about? Her? Would Mme. Giry act differently to Erik now that he didn't have to live in solitude? What would Erik do of she suggested that he shouldn't have to worry about wearing his mask in her presence? Could he cook? This last question took her by surprise. Why did she care? But it kept invading her thoughts relentlessly, until she finally gave in.

"Can you cook?" Her words seemed foul to have broken the silence with such a frivolous question.

"No."

She could tell that he was till angry towards the woman who had, up until very recently, been his sole companion. But she continued anyways.

"Do you have a kitchen?"

"Yes."

Another long silence ensued, and Sarah fidgeted uncomfortably, looking out at the lake. She could sense him watching her, but said nothing. Finally she heard him sigh.

"Can you?"

"Somewhat, yes."

"Then I suppose you want to see the kitchen."

"Sure."

He picked up a candle on a pewter holder and led her down a winding passageway. Almost all of the rooms branching off to the sides had doors or tapestries over the entrances, but a few were open and she caught fleeting glimpses of beautiful artifacts that any museum owner would die for. Other rooms were cold and bare, foreboding. The kitchen turned out to be like that. Erik lit the sole candelabra in the room, blowing out the single candle he carried, and Sarah shivered. The tiny room was open to the lake on one side, and cold air came off the water here much more than it had in the main room. A rug was on the floor, but it was an ugly shade of brown and rats or moths had chewed holes in it around the edges. A fire pit sat in one corner and a wood-burning oven squatted almost next to it in the opposite corner. An icebox lay abandoned in another corner, and everything was coated in a layer of dust that suggested it had probably never been used.

"Something tells me that this'll take more than a dusting." Sarah remarked with one eyebrow raised skeptically.

She lightly kicked the oven and sent a dense cloud of dust up into the air. She and Erik immediately began coughing and choking on the dust, and he suddenly sneezed very loudly. Their only source of light clattered to the floor at the same time as he swore, and they were plunged into inky darkness.

"Damn it!" He swore again after yet another sneeze. "Brilliant, just brilliant! What the dickens possessed you to kick the oven?"

"Don't blame me, smart one! You knocked over the candles, not me!"

She stumbled on the edge of the fire pit and lurched forward, reaching out blindly to try to stop her fall. Unfortunately she latched onto Erik's shirt and brought them both crashing down. However instead of yelling at her as she'd expected, he gasped.

"M-my mask!"

"What?"

"It fell off!"

"So?"

"You haven't seen my… monstrosity of a face!"

Sarah heard shuffling and felt him moving away.

"Don't leave me alone!" She loved the dark, but not pitch blackness. "Besides, you'll never find it in this darkness. We'll get more candles and bring them back."

"No." He said harshly. "You… you'll see my face."

She followed the sound of his voice until she bumped into him. Raising her hand, she touched his face after blindly searching for it a while. She only felt the deformed flesh for a moment before he pulled away.

"Erik, I've seen-"

"No, you haven't! You've see an interpretation of a character out of a story."

"Dude, it won't bother me! If you'd seen the stuff I have, you'd understand why I'm saying that!" She specifically was thinking of the dissections she'd had to do in science a few years prior, but some of the movies she'd seen would also suffice for the grotesque reference she was trying to make.

Sarah wished she could have seen his face a moment later, as she heard a loud splash and several loud words that she assumed were swear words in French. She cracked up as she crawled in the direction of the lake. When she got to the edge of the water, she felt a strong hand reach out and grab her wrist. Screaming instinctively, she fought back blindly against her "attacker", then ran from the room once she got free. A panic ingrained in her through her ancestors took over and she plunged on. She realized her mistake at almost the same moment as she smacked into a wall. Sinking slowly down to the floor, she burst into tears for no apparent reason beside the fact that she'd just punched and clawed Erik multiple timed. Suddenly she heard shuffling noises and someone tripped over her.

"Oof!" A female voice exclaimed.

Sarah shouted in surprise and sprinted out of the room in the direction she'd come, crashing headlong to Erik's chest.

"Erik, th-there's a-a-a… a person i-in there!"

"Where?" He sounded ready to grab the Punjab lasso and kill the intruder.

"She's in one of the rooms!"

"Come with me."

She felt him grab her hand and stalk quickly down the hallway. Sarah had to jog to keep up with his long strides, but didn't dare ask him to slow down. She didn't feel like being strangled along with the unknown woman.

They emerged into the main room and Sarah noticed that he'd covered his face with his hand. He struggled to light a torch one handed for a while, the finally had Sarah do it for him.

She followed him as he marched down the corridor, torch and Punjab in one hand, the other concealing his facial defect. He looked in each open room they passed, with Sarah looking over his shoulder cautiously. She could sense him growing impatient, but was terrified at the thought of someone freely roaming around.

"With the exception of the kitchen, there's only two open rooms left." Erik said, gripping the Punjab tighter in anticipation. "Are you sure it was an open room?"

"Yeah, I'm positive."

They cautiously glanced into the next room and Sarah gasped in surprise at the sight before them.

* * *

Hmmm, well I was going to say something intelligent, but I forgot. Go figure. Anyways, I thought I'd tell the world that my ipod's wheel thingy just died, so now I can only press the play button and the button to go back to the last song, so I'm screwed. But that's okay, because in the story it is in perfect condition, and in real as long as I have the play button no one at apple dies. In other words, review or else! –holds up the cottage cheese and rope threateningly- 


	6. The Death of the ipod

Chapter Six: The Death… of the ipod

**Koneko-chan16**- Hehehe, that's my favorite part, too:) Partially because it is based on a real event that happened to me, so it brings back memories. Except the guy was named John… and my whole class thought we were doing something… naughty… -blushes at the memory-

**Cold Fate**- Oh my gosh, I can't stand the condensed movie version either! But my friend Tiffani has the condensed Broadway version, and it has a different version of MotN! But thank god for ipods, because I have 35 or so songs from both versions, and that makes it all good. ;)

**Galasriniel**- You're from Texas? YOU ROCK! I was born in Dallas! Hmmm… I haven't heard the Sex Pistols, that's too bad. But it was a good idea, so if you get another one, I'll try my best to incorporate it. ;) Lol, no, I tie non-reviewers to a giant candelabra and force-feed them cottage cheese until they break down and review! Mwahahahahahahahahaha! FEAR THE COTTAGE CHEESE! –cough- Anyways…I do hope that you're still on your seat, though the floor can serve some… interesting purposes. (Jeez, I'm such a perv today!) And savvy is the most awesome word ever! SSSSSSAAAAAAAAVVVVVVVVVYYYYYYY! Okay, I'll stop before I scare away my reviewers.

**Sarah**- Woah, NICE NAME! Lol, any Sarah is automatically awesome in my book, so congrats! –gets out giant green book and writes Sarah's name along with the 5,986,273 other Sarah's in the world, and the handful of guys who spell their name Erik with a 'k'- Oh, and I'm glad you love my story, so that makes you more special! –gets out a pink highlighter and highlights Sarah's name in the book-

**Wendela**- Well I'm glad that you bumped into my story, but I do hope that it didn't leave a bump on your head! ;) –hands you an icepack- You'll have to forgive my moments of temporary insanity. Wait, did I say temporary? Anyways, where in Europe are you from? Europe is awesome, so you get your name in the same book as the aforementioned reviewer, Sarah. –hauls out the book againgasp-You've been a phan for… how long?

–worships the more authentic phan in awe- You did understand me, I haven't read the whole book yet. But I ordered it and it should be here in a few days! –dances happily- Hmmmm… but its unfortunate that you say it is boring. I did notice that a bit in what I read, but I'm so obsessive that I'll read it multiple times anyways! I haven't seen Kay's book for sale anywhere, though, so I guess I'll have to check eBay…

gasp- ANOTHER PHANTOM MOVIE! Yay! Wow, it seems that my reply is almost as long as your review! But that's okay, because I love to talk as much as I love reviews, so make 'em as long as you want:)

**Silent Masquerade**- Hmmm, who could it be? Whoops, sorry, didn't mean to mock you! –begs forgiveness- By the way, I read your story, and if you don't update soon, the cottage cheese and candelabra treatment awaits you too! No, not really, but please update soon:)

**Rio**- Wow, thanks for the reviews that you left on both this and the other chapters:) And yes, Sarah does need to learn French, but no worries there! ;)

**Spongekat**- Hey, cool penname! Da bomb! –giggle- I haven't heard that phrase in… forever! But its awesome anyways! Oh, and thank you for the compliments, I am afraid that with the number of reviews I got for chapter five, I am not only very alive, I fear that my head might soon be unable to fit through doorways! Not that I'm complaining! ;) Ciao! (Lol, I actually speak Spanish, not Italian, but I felt like writing that the Italian way…)

**CoolGirlEmily**- Yay, my story gets to be on a favorites list:) Thank you very much! Oh, and I went and read your PotO story, but I think I forgot to review… and I also read your Holes story a few minutes ago, but I was so eager to update that I didn't review, sorry!

Wow, that has to be the longest reply to reviews that I've ever written! 9 reviews! If I accidentally missed one, I'm dreadfully sorry, just flame me in your next review and I'll be sure to notice you! ;) No, scratch that, only flame me if you really feel the need to…

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own it… -quickly shoves Erik under my bed and tells him to be quiet until the people who check these disclaimers leave-

A well-tanned teenager was curled up in a sitting fetal position rocking back and forth, and mumbling to her self. Sarah's eyes widened as the girl looked up at them apprehensively.

"CHIFANNI!"

She tackled her friend ecstatically and ignored Erik's cringe.

"You know her?" He said gruffly.

"Yeah! She's my best friend from the future!" Sarah said in delight.

"Where am I?"

"Okay, don't freak, but you're in the 1870's." Sarah couldn't help but grin at how absurd the idea seemed. "You're in the Paris Opera House!"

"Say WHAT?" She looked around wildly with a fanatical gleam in her eyes. "And he's-"

Sarah nodded, beaming, but both girls' faces fell at Erik's expression.

"If you're under the impression that she'll stay here, you've been mistaken."

"Please Erik!"

"Please! I don't have anywhere to go!"

"She can sing, too!"

"Oh my god, you're both insane!"

"She can stay in my room!"

"Your room!"

In the end, however, the girls won out. Erik retreated to the music room with some sheet music and the ipod, locking the door behind him, while they spent hours exploring every nook and cranny of his lair that they had access to, finally falling asleep on a large Persian rug they found in an otherwise bare room.

They woke to see a huge rat staring at them and exited the room not at all quietly, running to the Louis-Philippe room and huddling on the bed, completely freaked out. However, they were interrupted by Erik bursting in with a look of bewilderment.

"It died!"

"What?" Sarah and Tiff once again asked in unison.

He held up the ipod. "The music stopped and I can't get it to start again!"

Sarah and Tiff stared at him blankly for a long time until he brought it over to them. Sarah clicked the center button and laughed.

"The batteries died."

"The what did?"

She pointed to the picture of a battery with an exclamation point that had appeared on the screen.

"Well, fix it then." He sounded relieved.

"I can't."

Sarah and Tiffani grinned at each other and broke out into song. "It's over now, the music of the niiiiiiight!"

He stared at them half in pity, half in disgust, for they had purposely sung truly horrible, then eventually spoke again.

"What do you mean, you can't fix it?"

The girl shrugged. "I can't charge it." He opened his mouth to speak, but she continued. "I'd need stuff that isn't around in the 1870's. Such as the ipod's charger."

Erik's shoulders drooped dejectedly as he slowly sulked out of the room, taking the now-useless ipod with him, despite Sarah's protests. After an hour or so, the two girls heard music and listened for a long time as he sang and played the song Gethsemane. Sarah chuckled.

"How ironic."

"Huh?"

"I have the live version by Michael Crawford on my ipod."

"You mean his ipod."

Sarah huffed in partial annoyance. "No kidding!" She sighed. "But I can forgive him."

"You could, couldn't you?"

Sarah thwacked her friend upside the head playfully. "You freak!"

"You're the one who's obsessed!"

"So?" She grinned.

"So? What would Erik think? By the way, don't even think of it; that's called child rape, even if you are 17."

"You perv! What are you now, my lawyer?"

"Why do you ask, I'm being honest." Tiff stuck her tongue out.

"Besides, thought and action are different." Sarah said semi-cheerfully. "You should know that by now. It's not as if he likes me, and I don't expect him to."

"Thank goddess!" She said in a playfully mocking manner.

"Shut up!"

The girls spent the next three weeks wandering around the lair, trying to find ways to entertain themselves. Erik largely avoided them except in the evenings, when they had dinner (courtesy of Sarah and Tiff, who had Erik ask Madame Giry for ingredients), vocal training, and the French lessons that he had only agreed upon to keep them from exploring upstairs as they had threatened. He wouldn't admit it, but he'd do almost anything to prevent them from leaving. They annoyed him to no end, but at least they were staying with him of their own free will. He wouldn't permit himself to consider the fact that they had to stay with him since they couldn't speak French to allow them to leave as of yet.

However, one day Erik came to them with important news; news that would allow them to leave his lair for a while.


	7. Auditions and Invitations

Chapter Seven: Auditions and Invitations

**To My Dearest Reviewers-** I am immensely sorry that I cannot write back to each of you personally this time, I am exhausted from having read nearly non-stop all day, and just now have finished my book and am going to indulge you with another chapter. What book? Why, _The Phantom of the Opera_ of course! (Excuse me if that should have been underlined or put in quotes.) I must admit that it was confusing, but I did like it… even though Christine was more annoying than Sarah and Tiffani on a sugar high and Madame Giry horrified me with her personality, which seemed more like the nurse in _Romeo and Juliet_ than… well… Mme. Giry! So if you notice that this story changes subtly after chap. 9, well… blame psycho Erik! –sniffle- Poor Erik…Christine should've stayed with him instead of femmie-boy! (Referring to the book… and the movie) –cough- Anyways, you're not here to read my opinions on snotty Christine in the book, so… here's what I promised!

* * *

"Sarah, Tiffani."

The two girls heard Erik calling them and got up from their current diversion of creating a deck of cards, navigating their room, which now had all sorts of stuff from other rooms in it. They'd even brought in a piano from another room and Tiffani was trying to teach Sarah to play.

Sticking their heads out of the door, they saw him holding some sort of paper in his hand.

"Is it time for singing already?"

"In a way, you could say that." He was smiling, actually smiling, and the two looked at each other nervously, wondering who in the heck he'd just sent a threatening note to that could make him so happy.

"What do you mean?" Sarah spoke the inquiry that was on both of the girls' minds.

"I'm going to help you prepare for your audition."

"Oh?" Sarah asked, leaning forward in curiosity.

"What audition?" Tiffani queried.

"For the upcoming opera. But only if you agree to my conditions."

He stared at the girls as they grasped hands and spun in circles, singing "Frere Jacques" at the top of their lungs. They eventually gave way to giggling as their heads reeled, and they suddenly grew so dizzy that they fell over. Both knew that they were freaking Erik out with their randomness, but they didn't particularly care, either.

Staring up at the man, Sarah flashed an adorably silly, lopsided smile. "What were you saying?"

He sighed. "You can audition if you agree to abide by my terms."

"Sure, no problem." Tiff said, still too dizzy to focus on anything.

"First, you'll agree to drop whatever you're doing and come when I say you'll practice then. Second, you'll obey what I tell you to do and sing without complaining during your training. Third, you'll only leave here when you're rehearsing or performing. You'll not accept any offers to live in the dormitories and train with the company, nor will you accept offers to go out to dinner, regardless of who asks."

When both girls stuck their chins out defiantly, he knew he wasn't going to get his way so easily.

"That's too controlling!" Tiff complained.

"Yeah, I need to be social sometimes!" Sarah pouted.

"Very well, then I'll request that you leave here and hope we don't cross paths again." He said coldly.

"Fine, be that way!" They said in unison as they headed for the passageway out.

"Wait!"

When both teenagers stopped and looked at him expectantly, Erik heaved a heavy sigh.

"What would you consider to be your minimum requirements for 'social activities'?" He asked in a placating manner.

The girls beamed knowingly at each other and slowly turned around, crossing their arms with exaggerated movements.

"Well…" Tiff glanced at Sarah conspiratorially.

"You'd have to let us go to dinner… or lunch… or breakfast…if we were invited." Sarah said firmly.

Tiffani nodded. "And you must allow us some time after rehearsals to hang out with the other cast members."

"To do what?"

"Hang out. Ummm… talk to them and… have fun." She explained hesitantly.

"Fine. You may go to take meals with female cast members or female patrons, and you have 10 minutes to… hang out."

"Why only female, Erik?" Sarah grinned coquettishly. "Are you afraid we'll get suitors?"

"No!" Suddenly he grinned wickedly. "Besides, no one would want you, so I don't have reason to worry."

"Hey!" They said indignantly at almost the same time.

"Men cause… problems." He vaguely explained.

The two caught on to his meaning and blushed.

"We need at least an hour to socialize." Tiff demanded after a long awkward silence.

"20 minutes."

"50."

"30."

"45."

"30."

"40?"

"30." The firmness in his tone demonstrated that she stood no chance of swaying his opinion.

"Fine."

Erik handed them several sheets of music.

"The opera will be The Magic Flute."

Tiff glanced down at the notes. "Holy crap!"

"What?"

"This is too high!"

"Didn't I tell you not to complain?"

"But its-"

"Then I'll help you to reach those notes."

Sarah looked through the music he had given her. "Um… Erik?" She said quietly.

"Yes?" He turned around.

"What about Carlotta?"

"What about her?"

"She's kind of the head honcho around here."

"Speak regular English!" He said exasperatedly.

"She's the lead soprano here."

"Of what importance is that to me?"

"Dude, I doubt I'll even make it into the chorus!"

"No you won't."

"Excuse me?" She stared at him in disbelief.

"You can't dance, so you couldn't be in the chorus."

She huffed. "I can dance a lot better than you!"

"You don't see me trying out for the chorus, now do you?"

"Since when was the phantom such a smart aleck?" Tiff's quiet observation earned her a glare from Erik.

"Seeing as how you stole my best piano." He paused for added emphasis to make them feel guilty. "I expect both of you to know the part by the time you have your lessons tonight. I don't want to spend time pounding out notes."

"Wait, when is the audition?"

He glanced at Tiffani. "Tomorrow."

Both girls jaws practically dropped to the floor and he herded them into the Louis-Philippe room, saying that if they'd always open that well then they'd sing like angels.

Amazingly, they both were prepared by the time of the audition. Erik had once again worked his magic on their voices, and they believed that they stood a good chance of getting cast. Not only that, but he seemed to be a superb teacher in all areas. The girls were now capable of having basic conversations in French. Neither one knew much, but he'd taken extra time to instill in them the vocabulary that they would need to know to survive in the try-out.

On the morning of the audition Erik was nowhere to be found, so Sarah and Tiff proceeded through the corridor that lead backstage. When they emerged, they both squinted against the harsh glare of the natural sunlight streaming from the windows.

"Woah, I'd forgotten how bright everything was!" Sarah shaded her eyes, which were accustomed to the semi-darkness of candlelight.

Tiff agreed and they headed towards a large group of girls loitering nearby.

(A/N: I don't feel like going to a translator for more French, so I'll just put it in italics if the dialogue is in French. Sorry for my laziness!)

_"Are you here for the auditions?"_ A petite girl with black hair asked, smiling kindly.

_"Yes."_ Sarah replied. _"My name is Sarah."_

_"I'm Tiffani."_

She curtsied to them politely. _"I'm Meg."_

_"You're Meg Giry?"_ Sarah tried to keep the surprise out of her voice.

_"Oh, do you know my mother?"_ She seemed pleased.

"Since when did Meg have black hair?" Tiffani pondered out loud. Sarah laughed and agreed, neither having read the book recently enough to remember.

Meg looked at them in confusion, then hesitantly repeated her question.

"Yes." Tiff replied, looking to Sarah in confusion.

"She said something about her mom." Sarah shrugged. _"It was nice to meet you, Meg."_ She nodded politely and nudged Tiffani, who followed suite.

Fortunately Meg got the hint and left, seeming confused and slightly annoyed. The two girls sighed gratefully and watched her go.

"Oh my gosh, French is really hard in a conversation!" Sarah exclaimed, looking as though she'd just had to have a conversation in Elvish. (Though she probably knew more Lord of the Rings style Elvish than she knew of French. She was one of those obsessive Legolas fangirls when she was 10 or 11.)

"Let's just hope we don't have to be interviewed." Tiff said in a cheerfully sarcastic way.

Mme. Giry came around and handed each girl a slip of paper. Sarah and Tiff took one look at theirs and stopped the woman.

_"Ummm… we want to try for the lead."_ Tiff said in halting French. _"We don't want the chorus."_ She hoped that she'd said what Erik had told her to without sounding like a complete fool.

Mme. Giry looked at them in surprise, then smiled in understanding. _"Are you here because of Erik"_

_"Yes."_ Sarah didn't know how to say 'somewhat' in French, so she settled for 'yes' and tried to convey that they were partially there on his behalf through hand gestures.

Mme. Giry seemed to understand for the most part, and she told them to some with her, taking the slips of paper away and gesturing for them to follow her. She led them away from the other girls, over to where Carlotta stood. The managers watched with forced smiles as the diva belted out horribly wrong notes without seeming to realize it. M. Gabriel, the chorus-master, impatiently stopped her time and time again to play the part on the piano for her, but the temperamental woman was either deaf or ignorant.

_"Monsieurs."_

When the three men and the woman turned to look at Mme. Giry, she gently pushed the two girls forward.

_"These two young women would like to audition."_

Carlotta looked down at them arrogantly, as if they were cockroaches needing to be stepped on, and sniffed.

_"How impudent! Monsieurs, surely you won't allow-"_

Firmin was holding a white note with a massive crimson seal shaped like a skull on the accompanying envelope, and he now interrupted the woman, his face the same shade as the paper of the note. _"Mme. Giry, are those the English girls?"_

_"Yes, monsieur."_

Sarah tugged at the ballet instructor's sleeve. _"Madame, we are American."_

_"Not to Erik. He believes you're English."_

Sarah and Tiff looked at each other in amusement and surprise.

_"Well, it seems our opera ghost demands that they be permitted to be considered for the part."_ He shrugged helplessly. _"Who knows what he'll do if we don't obey?"_

Carlotta's face clearly displayed her open astonishment and annoyance. _"Fine! I see how my managers value me! If these… little termites are so… important, I am leaving! Bye bye, I'm leaving!" _The woman stormed away with the managers on her heels.

_"Signora, please!"_

_"No! No, no, no! I am not listening to you!"_

_"Signora! They aren't even in the company!"_

She stopped, looking back at Sarah and Tiffani. _"They aren't?"_ An evil smile appeared on her face. _'Then send them with the corps de ballet."_

"You… toad! Were better singers than you'll ever be!" Tiff clenched her fists in anger.

_"Hmph, they can't even speak French!"_

"I don't have to speak French to beat your face in!"

"Tiff, no!" Sarah reached out to hold her back, but she was too slow.

Tiffani had already reached the woman, and suddenly appeared calm, smiling too sweetly at her.

_"What do you want now, dog?" _Carlotta fluttered her hand as if she was shooing away a fly.

_"Do you want to know?"_

Sarah couldn't believe that Carlotta didn't sense the danger underlying Tiff's sickeningly sweet tone, but the woman smugly said yes. Tiff grinned.

_"That's good. I'd love to show you."_

With that, she hauled back and punched her in the stomach, stomping on her instep as hard as she could simultaneously. The woman howled in pain and dropped to the floor, hollering something in Spanish.

"Serves you right, biotch!" Tiff said, seeming very satisfied.

Sarah hid her face in her hand, mortified. She'd been dying for someone to put Carlotta in her place, but had hoped that Tiff could have waited until after their try out.

_"Get a priest!"_

_"Signora, you're not-"_

_"Get a doctor!"_

By now everyone else on stage had come over to see what Carlotta was going on about and the whole thing turned into 45 minutes of mindless commotion. Finally Mme. Giry banged her cane on the floor and waited until she had everyone's attention, then herded the aspiring chorus members back to where they were before. The few who lingered a bit too long were asked to leave, and things settled down. At Carlotta's incessant demand they called the stage doctor, who proclaimed that her foot was broken.

"Dang, Tiff!" Sarah grinned, having recovered from her mortification.

"Heh, I guess those self-defense classes were useful. Of course we'll probably get kicked out of the audition and Erik'll kill us, but…"

"It was totally worth it!" Sarah finished the thought with a laugh.

_"Firmin, now what should we do? We just lost our prima donna!" _Andre said in a panic.

_"Monsieur, you still haven't heard the British girls. They have been well trained, I've heard/" _Madame Giry suggested.

_"Madame, thank you, but it's her fault!" _Firmin pointed an accusatory finger at Tiffani.

_"It seems as though we have no choice. After all, the opera ghost demands it and now we don't have a star!"_ Andre said, sighing heavily. _"Very well, sing."_

Both of them sang beautifully, or at least compared to Carlotta, and the smiles of the three men seemed genuine for once. They thanked the two and said that they would certainly be cast in some role.

The girls loitered around watching until the auditions had ended. They were heading for the hidden door when suddenly a young man broke off from the other men who had auditioned and came towards them.

"Good day." He said, bowing to them. "My name is Christopher Rainford, may I inquire as to yours?"

Tiff blushed. "Sarah, he speaks English!" She whispered ecstatically.

"So?" Sarah fought the urge to roll her eyes.

They introduced themselves, one much more eagerly than the other, and he smiled.

"I couldn't help but hear your angelic voices earlier, and quite frankly, I was enchanted. I'd like to take you both to dinner, if I may."

"Sure!"

"Tiff, we can't!" Sarah looked at her in surprise. "You know what we were told!"

"I'm sorry, is there a problem?"

"We were-"

"-No, there's no problem, Sarah simply had a prior commitment.

"Oh, that's unfortunate. Well, do you, miss?"

"No, of course not." Tiff smiled and took his arm, walking away without a single backward glance.

Sarah watched them go helplessly, then groaned. "How am I going to explain this to Erik?"

* * *

Whew, long chapter! Anyways, if it isn't much trouble, could those of you who read non-comedy mind looking at my other story, Letting Go? Sorry to be so pushy, but it is really depressing that I only have one review on it so far! But you don't have to, I won't be mad at all:)


	8. The Hamburger Ordeal

Chapter Eight: The Hamburger Ordeal

Okay, here's another chappie. Man, its really hard to write romance into this plotline! But I'm doing my best, bear with me here…

Ooooh, guess what? I get to go see PotO on stage two times! Once in November in Denver, and I have the 70 tickets for the best seats! Yay! –bounces around- Also, I get to go see it in Las Vegas, though I'm not sure when that is. I feel so special! –bounces around again singing The Point of No Return- Oh, and guess what again? Tiff gets to come to see it in Denver with me! Yay, Tiff!

**CoolGirlEmily- **Wow, I can read that! Yay, I'm not dyslexic after all! –runs in circles until I smack into a wall- Anyways, I had the same problem, so I think it was just this site…

**TheSiriusSparrow- **Hehehe, Carlotta deserved that kick too! Go you! ;) Ummm… and I actually don't speak French, so could you tell me what that means? Sorry! –blush-

**Galasriniel- **Lol, I see that a lot of people are very happy for what Tiff did! The real Tiff was also overjoyed that I had her character do that to Carlotta. Oh, and he definitely is the sexy phantom man! –glomps him in his red death costume-

**Sarah- **I'm glad that I was able to brighten your bad day with Carlotta's suffering. Always remember, when you are in need of some cheering up, Carlotta and Christine are always there to torture! (Though Christine isn't in my story, who cares! –drops a beehive on Christine- Gawd, she looks like one of my classmates, it's sooooo scary!)

**Indiapyro- **Thanks for the compliment:) Oh, and don't worry, I will write more! –evil Michael Crawford laugh- I am currently writing chapter 10, but I have the whole plot more or less thought out.

**Wendela- **Lol, another Carlotta hater! Yay! –puts out a sign-up sheet for the 'hate Carlotta' club- Unfortunately Christine isn't in this story… exactly… lol, you'll see what I mean in chapter 10 or 11. ;)

**Baby-Vixen- **-joins you in the Erik chanting- Oooooh, plushie of Erik! Me like! –runs off to sew one and fails miserably-

**Silent Masquerade- **Did I ever say before that your username is awesome? Okay, that was random, but… your user name is AWESOME! Ummm… anyways… I think I'll let that other story lie dormant and unloved while I work on a slightly similar one-shot from Christine's point of view (I know, I must be horribly corrupted to write from her point of view –gasp-) But thank you for looking into it anyways. I'll probably get around to finishing it some time or another…

**kristinekat13- **Hehehe, Tiff is a trouble-maker in real, so it was the least I could do to try and match her personality. ;) Ummm… and about my other story, read the reply I gave Silent Masquerade just above this reply. Oh, and the more crazy you are, the cooler you are! ;) (After all, Erik is PSYCHO and we all love him anyways! Lol…)

* * *

It turned out that he needed no explanation. Erik had seen the whole ordeal from box 5, and he was madder than hops.

"Why does she insist on disobeying rules that I make for her own good?" He growled, pacing the music room like a caged tiger. "Why?"

"Well… your rules are a bit… overbearing…" Sarah struggled for a way to explain it to him without signing her own death warrant.

"How? I said she could socialize for 30 minutes! I even said she could go to dinner with other women, just not men! So she goes and accepts the first offer a man gives her! Are all women from your time so disobedient?"

"For the most part."

Erik made an exasperated noise and stalked off to his desk, sitting down stiffly. Sarah took one look at him and realized that he wasn't in a mood for talking, so she sighed and headed for the kitchen. If Tiff was out to dinner with Christopher, Sarah figured that it would be more sensible to eat now rather than wait for her. Not only was Sarah hungry, but she also wanted to try to get Erik out of his bad mood as quickly as possible.

Looking through the icebox, she sighed. There was nothing left but some beef, bread, and cheese, which wasn't exactly a complete meal. She glanced into the makeshift cupboard and was again discouraged to find only potatoes and a few seasonings. Suddenly she got an idea and grabbed all of the stuff, setting to work peeling the potatoes with a small knife.

When everything was finished, Sarah grinned. She had managed to make something that resembled 2 hamburgers and a huge mound of French fries, which she piled on the plates and juggled them along with a candlestick as she hurried down the hallway to the music room. She found it empty and inwardly swore, setting the food down and going to look for the phantom.

She found him sulking in his bedroom and put on a cheerful smile.

"I made dinner. But you'll have to ask Mme. Giry for more ingre-"

"I'm not hungry."

Sarah walked over and knelt before him Japanese-style. "Please? Tiffani'll be fine, she's a big girl and she can take care of herself." She laughed at the comment. "I can bring it in here if you want me to."

Erik finally agreed to this and Sarah hurried to get the plates. Bringing them into his room she sat them in the middle of the closed coffin.

"What the devil is that?" Erik eyes the meal in suspicion and disgust.

"Hamburgers. From… Germany?" She shrugged. "Whatever, they're good. And the small things are French fries."

"French fries?"

"They're from America."

Poor Erik looked more confused. "French… fries from… from America?"

She nodded happily. "Oh honestly, they won't poison you!"

"I can't be so sure of that…"

Sarah couldn't reply with her mouth full of hamburger. Finally he picked a French fry up and bit into it hesitantly. He chewed for a long time, then swallowed and quickly finished the rest of it.

The teenager smiled in delight. "I'm glad you like it."

He muttered something incoherent, but nevertheless finished all of the fries quickly, a slow grin appearing on his face. Once they were gone he bit into the hamburger after only a slight pause. Sarah immediately turned away to hide a snicker as juice flew from the tender meat, dripping from the corner of his eye to the bottom of the mask. Apparently he didn't notice.

"What are you laughing at? This is… good!"

"You, uh… there's something…" She pointed to his face. "It squirted you." She couldn't fight back her laughter no matter how hard she tried.

"What?" He stared at her dumbly, still holding the hamburger.

"The meat squirted you with juice when you bit it." She pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of the half-apron she wore and opened it. "Let me help you."

To her surprise, he accepted the offer. Sarah reached up and started wiping off the mask slowly, a lopsided grin on her face. As the wary look of suspicion in his eyes gave way to a cautious trust, so did the grin give way to a true smile on her face. She took one look at this trust in his eyes and resolved to a thought which had occurred to her a few days before. Allowing her hand to go to the unmarred side of his face, she caressed the skin as gently as she could, waiting until he slowly closed his eyes.

'Oh my god, I'm acting like Christine! What is this world coming to?' She hastily shoved the thought aside.

Leaning forward, she whispered in his ear. "Erik, I'm going to remove your mask, don't freak out." Thinking back on what happened in the movie, she decided to add something. "Oh, and don't shove me down and cuss at me, 'kay?"

His eyes snapped open and he pulled away from her hand again. "Don't try it!" His expression suddenly changed to one of desperation. "Please, I can't bear for-"

"You'll be fine." She said quietly, more to herself, as she reached up and quickly pulled the object off his face.

He gasped and the hesitant trust vanished, replaced by hurt and anger.

"How dare you!" He shoved her down roughly. "Damn you! Why must you be so insistently inquisitive?"

Sarah curled up protectively but a deep calm lay just below her fear. "No, stop!

It-"

"Well, you wanted to see, didn't you? Look at my hideous face and know me for what I truly am!" He roared.

Slowly standing up, she pushed down her fear to touch the marred side. "I'm looking and all I see is a face." The appearance was actually more repulsive than how the movie showed it to be, but she wouldn't allow herself to show that. "It makes no difference to me."

He stared at her in disbelief and distrust for a long time, and she swallowed nervously, leaning forward gradually and stopping a few inches away from his face.

"Let me prove it to you." Just as her lips nearly touched his own, they heard footsteps and sprang apart, hastily shoving hamburger into their mouths just moments before Tiffani came into the room.

She smiled when she saw the two. "Oh good, you didn't wait up for me."

Erik was instantly on his feet, his anger returning, and Sarah sighed. Those two fought like Coloradoans and Texans on a ski trip.

A few minutes later the two girls sat in their bedroom trying to finish their deck of cards, and Tiff's curiosity apparently got the better of her.

"So, what did you do while I was gone?"

Sarah blushed. "Nothing… why do you want to know?"

"I don't think I want to, now…" Her eyes were wide. "Okay, tell me!"

"Oh, I was just being a Mary-Sue."

"Huh?"

But Sarah simply walked away to the bathroom and shut the door, ignoring Tiff's demands for an explanation. She was going to have more fun letting her perverted friend come to her own conclusions.

* * *

So, what did you think? I personally don't like this chapter,b ut that might just be me. I think it is too similar to all the Mary-Sue fics out there, but I was running very short on inspiration when I wrote this a couple weeks ago. -shrug- Oh, I got a doggy! She's so cute, her name is Cali and she's a golden retriever! Okay, that had nothing to do with this, but whatever... 


	9. Author\'s Note

UPDATE

Okay…. I know that everybody is probably really really mad at me right now, so let me explain the situation. First, I totally lost the story, so everything in the next ten or so chapters is totally gone and I have no clue what I wrote, which really sucks. Second, I absolutely loath the real person Tiffani right now, so that also would make it harder to rewrite something to fill in the the chapters I lost. So ifyou, my readers,really want me to continue this story, I'll try, but it's going to be difficult, and will most certainly take a very long time. I am willing to keep writing if ya'll want me to, but I just wanted to let you know everything that is going on. I'm sorry if I seemed like I was abandoning you, because I had no intentions to, I was just going through a very hard time in my life in terms of progressing on this story.

Thanks,

The authoress


	10. Unfortunate Phobia

Chapter Nine: Unfortunate Phobia

Okay, so you're in luck! I found this chapter saved on my computer! It wasn't the full chapter, I remember that, but I couldn't recall the rest, it was quite long. So I cut it off where it seemed fitting and slapped myself for not remembering the funny part of the chapter. But at least I can give you a real update!

A/N: Can I please ask you all a question? What do AU and canon mean? I see those all the time, but I never know what they mean. Help!

To Sarah's disappointment, Erik remained almost entirely unseen for the next three months, locked in his music room and saying that if they valued their well-being than they'd leave him alone. However, he could be heard playing music late into the night. Once Tiffani threw a shoe at the door and nearly died for it. Afterwards they left him alone and learned to sleep through it.

To the girls, life had settled into a comfortable routine. They went to rehearsal every day but Sunday, and spent every available moment on their free day window shopping with the exception of the few rare times Erik gave them a bit of money. However, on weekdays Sarah hardly ever saw Tiff after 4 P.M, as her friend stayed out with Chris until nearly 10 on a good day. Sarah decided not to ask what she did on her dates, as her friend often didn't return until Sarah was sitting down to breakfast, and had to endure Erik's anger every time.

In terms of the opera, they caused a scandal their first day, coming in with knee-length skirts and considerably lower collars than any other woman. The other cast members avoided them like the plague, but Meg latched onto them like a leech with rabies. At first, it bothered them to no ends, but they leaned to deal with it. At least she didn't shun them like the others.

But now none of their routines, scandals, or near-death experiences mattered. They were scurrying around like mice, getting ready for the first show of The Magic Flute. Erik had already left, but not before Tiff bowled him over in her haste to get a needle and thread to sew up a small tear in her deep blue costume. Sarah's was identical, except it was medium blue. The two were Queen's ladies, and a young woman named Nicolette played the other, though she was a horrid singer compared to their petite understudy, Veronique.

"Tiff, we're late!" Slipping on her shoes, Sarah headed for a passage leading to a seldom-used prop room where they could emerge unnoticed. Minutes later they cautiously slipped out the door, heading for the dressing rooms what most of the dancers and minor singers used. Although they were more than chorus girls, they insisted on "changing" with the other girls in the main dressing rooms just so that they would be less likely to be missed.

"Oh, you're ready, good!" Mlle. Sorelli, the lead dancer, commented as she glanced through the doorway. "By the way, these are for you. Mme. Giry asked me to give them to you." She handed them both a crimson rose with a black ribbon on it, giving them a look of sympathy. "it seems you've unfortunately attracted the attention of our opera ghost, mmles." With that she hurried away to get her dance slippers.

Within 20 minutes, Sarah and Tiff found themselves backstage, glancing anxiously between the curtains at the audience.

"A full house, Sarah! We're performing for half of Paris, it seems!"

The show began and they watched in eager anticipation until their entrance had finally come. They entered with Nicolette to defend Prince Tamino, who was being chased by a vicious monster, and Sarah quickly stole a glance at the audience once again. Suddenly her stomach contracted like a fist, as did her throat. She could only stare at the audience and glance up to box five, where she knew Erik watched from the hollow column.

"Sarah, sing!" Tiffani's desperate whisper sounded distant to the petrified teen.

She felt the blood drain from her face and reeled for a moment before hitting the stage floor.


	11. In Which Erik Sings Blue Oyster Cult

Chapter Ten: In Which Erik Sings Blue Oyster Cult

Oh my gosh, I finally found some more of the story! I found five more chapters besides this one, which is actually the continuation of the last chapter that I couldn't remember. So I am really, really elated right now, and will continue with regular updates until I am through with these chapters, then will continue writing as usual. I've noticed, however, that my sense of humor has changed, as my readers of my new comedy _Double Vision_ might have noticed. Strange, huh? Ah, well, we can't have everything we want, can we?

Anyways, if you don't know who Blue Oyster Cult is, I recommend that you find a way to listen to their song "Don't Fear the Reaper" to better understand why it is so ironic that Erik should be singing Blue Oyster Cult songs.

Even though I only had three reviewers, which is far less than my pre-losing-the-story chapters, I am very grateful to you all, and thus I will respond to you, as always!

**Sandra-** Thank you sooooo much for those definitions, they had been bugging me for a long time. Haha, to be quite honest, I had thought that AU was author's understudy or something irrational like that. Heh, stupid me!

**Sapphire Tearz-** Well, I'm glad that you liked that chapter! It wasn't one of my favorites, but they get better! (Or worse, if you don't have a gutter-mind, as my sense of humor isn't pure at all!)

**CeleryBunch-** Hey, I lurve the word lurve! –laugh- Interesting name, is there a story behind it? Oh, and thanks for giving me license to change everything at will, though I've already done that with Erik's personality! –wink-

When Sarah once again recovered from her faint, she found herself backstage. Meg, Veronique, Tiff, Chris, and Mlle. Sorelli were all gathered around her, and Mme. Giry came over a moment later with a damp cloth which she placed on Sarah's forehead.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Mlle. Sorelli asked.

"Uhhhh…. what happened?"

"Dude, you fainted onstage!" Tiff said, seeming shocked that she had to ask.

"Can't you remember?" Meg placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder in concern.

"Sort of…" Sarah's eyes suddenly widened. "Wait, I missed the performance?"

Her friend nodded. "But we still have 9 more shows. So it doesn't really matter."

"Do you think he'll say the same thing?"

Mme. Giry imitated Meg's former movement. "The opera ghost?"

The girl nodded and sat up, looking about wildly as though she expected him to materialize right then and there. Mlle. Sorelli and Veronique crossed themselves nervously, also glancing around.

"Come with me, both of you." Mme. Giry stood swiftly, helping Sarah up.

Both Americans followed her as she hustled down dimly lit hallways, finally coming to a locked door. She unlocked it and ushered them inside, relocking it as soon as they were inside. She crossed to the wardrobe and took out a dagger. Handing it to Tiff, she headed for the door.

"I'll get you something to eat, and some cool water. You must be in need of it after that incident." She smiled kindly and left with one last comment. "I hope that you won't have need of that."

As soon as the sound of her footsteps had faded away, a soft voice seemed to fill the entire room and the gas lamp's flame died suddenly, without cause. The voice was singing a very familiar song.

"Came a last night of sadness

And it was clear she couldn't go on

The door was open and the wind appeared

The candles blew and the noose appeared

The curtains flew and then he appeared

Saying "don't be afraid; come on baby"

And she had no fear

And she ran to him-"

By this point both girls burst out laughing, and Tiff turned the lamp back on.

"Blue Oyster Cult, Erik?" She asked skeptically.

A panel in the wall opened, revealing the phantom's hiding place.

"It seemed fitting."

"Dude, how can you say that with a straight face? It's an '80's rock song!"

He walked into the room and suddenly turned to Sarah, his voice taking on a menacing tinge. "What happened?"

"Ummm… well you see… I have this… phobia of public… singing…" She sighed.

"Phobia of public singing?" He echoed flatly. "Perfect! My best pupil can't sing for an audience!"

Tiffani looked indignant about his saying that Sarah was his best pupil, and she was considering taking the dagger away from the girl for everybody's safety.

"How long have you had this… absurd fear?"

"Ummm… at least five years."

Both teens retreated nervously as he kicked the dresser and began ranting like a madman as he paced the room.

"Dude, chill! Can't you just teach her not to freak in front of an audience?"

Erik's only response was to grab their wrists and drag them into the passage he'd come from, leaving Mme. Giry to find an empty room. He spent the rest of the night forcing Sarah to sing her part over and over again, finally walking her back to the Louis-Philippe room. Tiffani was already sound asleep as Sarah lay down in her half of the swan bed.

"Erik, don't go!" She whispered, causing him to pause in the doorway, light flooding around his dark, lean frame into the room and making him seem almost to have an angelic glow.

"I fear it would be most improper for me to stay." A slight teasing tone edged his voice.

"Will you sing to me?" She once again winced at such a Mary-Sue request, but shrugged it off.

"What, now?"

"No, next year!" Her biting sarcasm immediately made her regret her words. "Sorry… yes, now."

Erik complied, coming to sit at the bedside next to the girl. He felt fortunate that she couldn't see the blush which he felt certain was on his unmasked cheek. "What shall I sing?"

"Music of the night… the alternative version by Michael Crawford!" Her excited tone sounded like a child begging for their favorite tale at story time.

"What?" He seemed immensely confused.

"Okay, I'll start it for you… but you take over, m'kay?"

Sarah began to sing then. "Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness wakes and stirs imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses, helpless to resist the notes I write. For I compose the music of the night…"

In the end she sang Erik to sleep, who fought his drowsiness, trying to remember the lyrics to the mutation of his original song, but finally drifted off with his head on the edge of Sarah's pillow, his legs dangling off the bed, and a smile on his face.


	12. Masquerade Preparations

Chapter Eleven: Masquerade Preparations

"Sarah, the masquerade is next month!" Tiffani exclaimed, bursting into the room holding a flyer for it that she had stolen from somewhere in the opera house.

The younger girl had been moping about losing her part in _The Magic Flute_ but she immediately perked up. "Oh my gosh, really?"

"You have the weirdest mood swings, I swear!"

"Oh no!" Sarah's mood quickly changed again. "We don't have anything to wear! What would serve as a good addition to the red death?"

"Ummmm… the bubonic plague?" Tiff suggested, snickering.

"Oh, I know!"

Tiff groaned. "I can see it now: the red death, accompanied by hepatitis and syphilis."

"Heh, no, but why did you immediately think of STD's? Nope, my idea isn't as… creatively morbid as that, but we'll look pretty!" Sarah bounced off to beg Erik to let them go shopping for material.

A month later found two exhausted, but totally psyched girls getting ready for the masquerade. They had been working almost non-stop every day to prepare, as they had to sew Erik's red death costume as part of the agreement. They'd never considered the (very understandable) possibility that the opera ghost couldn't sew.

At last, they were ready. Being the obsessive phans that they were, one went as the angel of music, while the other went as the angel of death. This corresponded with the overall theme of the original plot, even if the two didn't exactly fit with the read death as well as hepatitis and syphilis would have.

Tiff, who had proved herself the more confident singer, went as the angel of music. Her long white satin gown was draped with a sheer cloth covered in gold music notes, and two beautiful white wings with the same sheer material covering them attached to the back. Her mask was white with gold feathers on the sides. Sarah had insisted on being the angel of death, to accompany Erik's red death. She wore a floor-length gown of jet black velvet, and the front of the bodice laced up with deep crimson ribbon. Her wings were the same, except they were as black as the night sky, with tiny jewels that looked like twinkling stars. Her mask was black with blood red feathers, and a deep red veil covered the top half of her face, draping from a small, flat black hat with a skull embroidered on it. All in all the two girls had switched personalities in their clothes, as Tiff was usually the morbid one.

The two were waiting for Erik when Tiff ventured to mention the sleeping arrangements of the prior month on the first day of the opera. Sarah was trying to reach the strings of her corset to loosen them while the bodice of the dress lay on her hips. Tiff walked over to help, then spoke.

"So… what was up with … deal after the first night of _"Flute"_?"

"Huh?"

"Well, our bed was rather… crowded."

Sarah's face turned bright red in an instant. "So?" Suddenly her embarrassment was forgotten, and she grinned wickedly. "Wouldn't you like to know!"

"Ah, so it's good that I'm a deep sleeper, huh?"

"Ew, you perv! I didn't sleep with him, can you imagine!"

"Well… you technically did…"

"Is this conversation about me?"

They turned to see Erik in his costume with his face the same shade as the material. Sarah suddenly became modest and quickly pulled her bodice up to where it should have been, practically drooling at the sight of her favorite costume.

"Look Tiff, the… the pants!" She whispered ecstatically, unable to resist a little squeal of obsessive delight.

Apparently she didn't speak soft enough, as the man looked down at his trousers with a look that clearly said he was regretting allowing two hormone-driven teenage phangirls to sew his apparel. Sarah and Tiffani occupied themselves with putting on their wings, but Sarah kept making weird little noised that greatly disturbed her friend. The infamous O.G either didn't hear them, or had decided to attempt to maintain his dignity. After a long time of almost-silence, he was the one to break it.

"May I inquire, mlle., as to what is so captivating about my… pants…?" Curiosity seemed to have gotten the better of the ghost.

Sarah's eyes opened so wide that Tiff nearly fell over laughing at the overall expression that had appeared on her face.

"Ummm… you… ummm… you've got…" She stammered foolishly while he waited.

"I've got…?" He now seemed to be regretting and enjoying his question in turns.

"…Great legs…" She squeaked, hiding her face.

Oh yeah. He was definitely regretting his blasted curiosity, judging by the look on his face. It was rather cute to see the phantom blushing, however ironic it might be that he would blush. Tiff considered herself lucky, not having known what the heck Sarah would have said he had that made the pants so alluring, but Erik didn't seem as relieved. Or perhaps he was, who knows? After all, she could have said much, much worse things than that he had great legs.

"Ahem… shall we?" Instead of offering them an arm like they'd expected, he simply lead the way to a different passage. But the two truly weren't surprised at his discomfort with physical contact at the time, so they followed behind him in silence.

Tiff noticed her best friend staring at the pants in question, since he hadn't put on his cape yet, and couldn't resist a grin. Perhaps she wasn't telling the truth about why she was so fond of the fairly form-fitting trousers.

"Hey Tiff, do you know what they say about people who wear red?" Sarah suddenly asked in a very soft whisper, a devious smile on her lips.

Her friend's only reaction was to moan and roll her eyes.


	13. Masquerade

Chapter Twelve: Masquerade

Guess what everybody? Tomorrow is my birthday! Happy birthday to me! Lol, so please leave me plenty of reviews as presents for my birthday! Anyways, I wanted to say thank you to the people that reviewed, keep reviewing and make me feel loved on my 15th birthday.

And as a special note to pinstriped rose: yes, I love fan art! I have a website set up where I'll display any fan art I get, so please do make some! I'd really appreciate it!

* * *

The two girls and the still-embarrassed phantom arrived at the masquerade at a perfect moment, when everything was starting to get lively. The guests were instantly astounded by the mysterious red death and the two "angels" by his side. The teens immediately found themselves a great source of curiosity to the exact right people: the young men at the ball.

They immediately were swept onto the dance floor by two gentlemen around their age, but understandably struggled to keep up. Tiffani's salsa dancing skills were of no use to her, as were Sarah's, though grinding certainly might have attracted even more attention to her. They managed to get away after only one song, and stood alone at the side, watching the people and trying to get hang of the waltz.

"Oh man, I stepped on my guy's toes about seven times!" Tiff moaned.

"Dude, I was whacking people with my wings every time I tried to move!" Sarah chimed in, laughing.

Suddenly they noticed Erik standing with a crowd of fascinated partiers surrounding him, marveling at his costume. Sarah growled audibly.

"It's the pants!"

Tiff laughed. "I don't think those men care about his ass as much as you did on the way here."

Sarah was spared a reply as her friend was claimed again. She took the opportunity to start unlacing her wings, not wishing to knock people out, when she suddenly heard a voice behind her.

"Why shed your wings, angel?"

She didn't recognize the speaker, but it was so phantomish-sounding that she expected to find the red death behind her with his voice disguised. A smile appeared on her blood-red lips as she turned around to find… Raoul? Her smile turned into a gape of surprise.

"You're the fo-… the Vicomte de Chagny!" She caught herself a bit too late.

He seemed pleased that she knew who he was, and flipped his long hair importantly. Sarah had to pinch herself to keep from cracking up, and even then almost failed. He held his hand out, beaming, and Sarah glanced at Erik. Once again she was amused by the sight of the phantom causing a commotion again. One of the young men had apparently become overly curious, and was paying for it with Erik having seized his wrist like a vice-grip, and apparently not planning to let go any time soon. She finally looked back to Raoul and nodded, giving him the tips of her fingers, wondering what possessed her to agree.

After the song ended, he requested another with her, but the words were hardly out of his mouth when a gloved hand tapped Sarah on the shoulder.

"May I have a dance, angel of death?"

Erik's newly-found charm was apparent in his voice, and Sarah smiled broadly, turning around to find a charismatic grin on his usually somber face. Raoul went off to claim Tiff for the next dance, and Sarah nodded.

"Certainly, monsieur." She curtsied deeply, unable to resist stealing a glance at his pants, then took his hand and placed her hand on his shoulder.

The dance was a lively waltz, and it had hardly ended before a photographer bustled up.

"Would you like a photo monsieur, mademoiselle?"

Erik glared at the pesky man, but Sarah looked up at him appealingly.

"Please?"

He sighed, looking for all the world like he'd rather be anywhere else, but finally nodded. The photographer named an astronomical price, but Erik's resolve was set by this time, and insisted on two copies, surprisingly.

"Ah, very good monsieur!" The man exclaimed greedily, setting up his camera. "Now if you please…" He made a motion to tell them to strike a pose.

Sarah removed her mask and stood to one side of Erik, not sure what to do after her perverted attitude towards his costume earlier, but was utterly shocked when he pulled her in front of him, placing a long, slender hand on her waist. Not that she was unhappy, just shocked. As soon as the bulb had flashed, however, she was immediately claimed again by Raoul. Even the photographer was surprised at his boldness.

Sarah watched as Erik retreated to the shadows, brooding, and allowed herself a wistful sigh when Tiff came up to him and persuaded him to dance. She had to admit, though, that Raoul was an excellent dancer.

Although she wouldn't admit it, the girl enjoyed being fought over, so her smile grew each time she was retaken by Erik, only to be claimed by Raoul during the next song. Tiff turned them both down once Chris found her through the crowd, so they took to loitering nearby, just far enough away to prevent themselves from seeming rude. They may have been developing a rivalry with each passing song, but they were still gentlemen about it. The girl thrived on the attention she was getting, and even flirted a bit with the vicomte to increase the determination of both. Once another young man tried to dance with her, but Erik fixed him with such a fierce glare that he backed away, apologizing profoundly. Although it was very much against the manners of the time to dance with a lady more than once or twice, they didn't seem to care about that aspect of being a gentleman.

As the night went on, Sarah's feet grew very sore, and she declared that if they demanded one more dance of her then she would collapse. She retired to a chair in exhaustion, removing her shoes and sighing in relief as the pain began to subside. She was easily able to attract Erik's attention, and motioned for him to come over. When he reached her, she finally realized how angry he truly was towards the youngest de Chagny brother, and felt slightly bad for leading them on as she had.

"Erik, have you finished Don Juan triumphant yet?"

"How do you know about it?"

"Jeez, don't get mad at me! I've heard you working on it ever since… well, since I arrived."

"I see." He seemed somewhat displeased. "Well, I have at last finished my masterpiece, yes."

"Do you have a black leather folder that it would fit in? It has to be long and narrow, and it would be even better if the words of the title were on it in gold." She giggled at how specifically she remembered the case from the movie.

He stared at her, probably questioning her sanity. "Why do you ask?" He probably wanted to ask if something got knocked loose during all that whirling around the dance floor.

"Because I'm going to tell you what you have to do."

"Tell me what to do?"

"Don't worry, you'll get to make a big entrance and threaten people."

"Really?" He seemed very interested at the prospect of threatening people. "What do you have in mind?"

She described the scene from the movie, and he seemed receptive to it, but pointed out that there was no Christine from which to yank the ring off her neck. To his surprise, she chuckled ominously.

"Oh, leave that to me. Now, go get the opera."

As he left he glanced back and glared as he saw her sidling up to Raoul, but decided to trust her. He was eager that his work be performed, and hoped that she was flirting so… audaciously with the young man to help get the show put on. After all, such an influential patron could persuade the managers of all the departments to look favorably upon the unconventional opera. But he was all too aware of what it might take on the teen's part to persuade the vicomte if that was her plan. He shoved his thoughts away as he hurried to get _Don Juan_, hoping that she'd already have succeeded in her task.

Sarah was surprised by how easily she managed to trick Raoul into believing that she loved him. She had secured a ring from him within 20 minutes, and all it took was a light kiss, which was rather bold for the time, but it got her what she needed. It obviously wasn't an engagement ring that she got, but rather a token of affection. Sarah honestly was awed by the number of rings that he wore, but it made her mission easier. She had hardly managed to replace her elaborate garnet necklace with a simple silver chain before the red death made his reappearance. Everybody had seen him before, but now a sort of danger radiated from him that everyone sensed. Perhaps it was the fact that he had a sword, who knows? A few people seemed on the verge of screaming, and one grand old dame fainted away.

As for Sarah, she once again stared at those glorious pants, which didn't help her to resist a smile as he delivered the lines that she'd instilled in him. She moved slowly towards Tiff, and then the two began to ascend the grand stairs, ignoring the attempts of Chris and Raoul to hold them back. They'd adapted the lines to suit the fact that there was two of them, and he turned his attention to them after threatening everybody nearby. It was rather overkill, but he didn't seem to care. People were scared, and he was pleased as a result. How else would a professional specter react?

"As for my two companions;

No doubt, they'll do their best

It's true their tone is good,

They know, though, should they wish to excel

They have much still to learn

If pride will let them return to me

Their teacher

Their teacher…"

They were half an arm's length away from him when Sarah subtly tilted the ring so that it glinted in the light. She saw Erik's expression harden and she inwardly jumped with glee, seeing how the plan was working so well.

"Your chains are still mine! You-"

All of a sudden, a silence fell as he gave another tug on the delicate chain around her neck. It held firm, so he pulled again; and again. Finally, he yanked really hard, and Sarah gave a cry of pain, reaching up to unclasp it so that things could proceed without her being decapitated.

"-you will sing for me!" He continued as though nothing had happened.

In a flash of fire they dropped through the trap door and the two girls ran ahead laughing, while Erik justifiably refused to laugh and skip like them.

Upon reaching the lair, Tiff collapsed on the bed in a kind of exuberant ecstasy, sighing happily. Sarah stood before their mirror, rubbing her sore neck and removing her make-up, then unbraided her hair.

"What the-?"

She looked into the mirror and her reflection stared back with curly hair. Grabbing a handful of her locks she held them before her and raised an eyebrow.

"Since when was my hair curly, Tiff?"

Her friend opened one eye and looked at her. "Braiding it does that, it'll go away."

"I hope so." She laughed as she finished changing into a nightgown and crawled into bed, exhausted.

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Don't forget to review asyour birthday present to me! 


	14. Transformation

Chapter Fourteen: Transformation

I haven't abandoned you! I promise! Although its been over two years since the last time I updated, I am back with a new chapter for this story and one for Double Vision. So if any of my former readers are still out there I still wuv you all and I'll try not to disappear on you like that again!

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"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

The high-pitched scream echoed around the entire fifth cellar, brining Tiffani and Erik charging into the bathroom in the nightclothes.

"Sarah, what happened… who are you?" Erik's concerned tone turned to a growl.

"I-I… my… my face…" Her voice rose to a squeak as she ran her trembling hands over her features. "M-my… oh my god. I'm… I've become…"

"Christine! What have you done with my friend?" Tiff exclaimed, clenching her fists.

The young woman looked into the mirror even closer, and suddenly shrieked again, causing the other two to jump.

"Oh my god, my boobs are gone!"

She poked at her nonexistent breasts with a look of absolute horror as Erik flushed and averted his eyes, mumbling something incoherent. Tiff pounced on her, strangling the girl and raving about her being an imposter.

"No, stop! I'm Sarah!" The Christine-look-a-like cried out.

"Prove it!"

"You… you're obsessed with cheese and you have a pink lighter named Delilah!"

Tiff's eyes widened and she let go of Sarah's throat. "What the hell did you do to look like… this?"

"I don't know!" Suddenly Sarah broke down into very Christine-like tears.

"Christine? As in the Christine you two speak so loathingly of? The Christine I fall in love with in the stories you've told me? The Christine who I lose to… Raoul?" He cast a glare of suspicion at Sarah, probably recalling the masquerade.

"One and the same." Tiff responded.

"What did I do to deserve… this?" Erik lamented.

All of them fell silent except for Sarah's sniffles, trying to think. Or rather, Tiff and Sarah tried to think, while Erik stated at the teen in disbelief.

"What did you eat?" Tiff asked in a failed attempt to be helpful.

Sarah/Christine stared at her. "Nothing."

Her friend began chiding her on her lack of eating, until Erik butted in.

"Perhaps it has to do with how you're acting."

Both of the girls turned towards him. "Huh?"

"Considering the unnatural ways by which you came to infest my home uninvited, perhaps your recent behavior has caused that same magic to alter your appearance to better suit you of late."

A look of surprise appeared on his face as Tiffani held back the fuming Sarah, who had been deeply insulted by being told she acted like Christine, and now was loudly vocalizing that opinion.

"How dare you! I don't- let me go Tiff! I don't act like freaking Christine! Let me go so I can kill him!"

"On a positive consequence, perhaps this change will allow you to sing with more projection. The Christine I heard on your music device sang quite well."

"Do I sound like Christine to you?" To Sarah's horror her voice cracked and she clutched her throat as a weird sensation rushed through it.

"No but I can hope."

"Well, I at least-" She stopped dead, her huge brown eyes opening to a gargantuan size.

Erik looked hopeful. "Sing something!"

Trembling from a jumbled mix of emotions, Sarah opened her mouth and began to sing.

"You have brought me to that- I can't sing without my own voice, Erik! That's like heresy!"

He frowned. "Well it's an improvement on your higher soprano ranges, to say the least."

"Hey!"

"I'm saying that as a compliment of the utmost sincerity and respect."

Tiff, meanwhile, was cracking up. "Poor Sarah… turning into ugly Christine!"

Somehow Sarah managed to glower and cry at the same time, a weird combination that only Christine was capable of.

"It's not fair, I look like a monkey! But I wonder…"

Suddenly, to Erik's further embarrassment, she pulled up her nightgown almost to the tops of her legs.

"I have Christine's thighs!"

Tiff raised an eyebrow. "Why were you paying that much attention to her thighs during the-"

"-this is awesome!" Sarah beamed. "It almost… almost… makes up for my going from a D to a… AA at best! No… not even that big…" She poked her boobs again.

Erik slowly began backing towards the door. "Well, I'll leave you to explore your body…"

"Perv!" Sarah tossed a wet washcloth at him.

The man blinked incredulously. "What did I say?"

The girl simply picked up one of the brightly striped towels that she and Tiffani had specially ordered. "Oooh, pretty colors!"

Tiff groaned. "I think your blond moments have finally been surpassed by your Christine moments…"

Sarah curled up on the floor stroking the towel and mumbling about pretty colors.

"Is she… okay?" Erik asked, peeking from around the doorframe.

"She is temporarily at what seems to be Christine's mental level." Tiff replied. "Oh god, I hope its only temporary!"


End file.
